


Skin and Bones

by Fandoms_Are_Life37



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depressed America, Depression, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, M/M, Sad, Song: Skin and Bones (David J Roch), Songfic, it all turns out okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24629431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37
Summary: Alfred has been dealing with anorexia and bulimia unbeknownst to Arthur for a long time, but Arthur finally finds out.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	Skin and Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Word count: 2,431
> 
> Estimated read time: 13 minutes 30 seconds
> 
> Warnings: Anorexia, bulimia, thoughts of suicide, and depression

Alfred shed his clothes, dropping them to the floor of the bathroom. They fell in a crumpled pile by his feet before he stepped onto the scale. 110.19 lbs.

He felt his heart sink. That was four more pounds than last week.

Looking in the mirror, he traced his fingers over his own paper-thin skin and along his bulging ribcage. Lately, even breathing was a bit of a struggle.

Tears ran down his face. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. He'd always be too fat, too ugly, or too disgusting. He hated his body, every inch of it.

Alfred felt isolated in that bathroom. He was cut off from the world. This was his dirty little secret that no one else knew of and it made him feel disconnected, which only served to make his depression worse.

"You'll never be good enough," he hissed to his reflection. "Arthur will never love you. He's only dating you because he feels bad for you. How could anyone ever love you?"

His own red, puffy eyes stared back at him, looking soulless. Maybe he was at this point.

Good thing he was a master at hiding it.

Feeling hopeless, he scooped up his bulky, loose-fitting clothes, slipping them over his frail figure. The last thing he needed was for someone to notice. They'd try to stop him, and he couldn't do that. He couldn't stop.

He turned the knob of the door, flicking the light off behind him and grabbing his earbuds. Alfred popped them into the headphone jack and started some upbeat music before leaving for a run.

Like always, his vision would be a bit blurry and the pain would be all-consuming, but he pressed onward through the streets. Despite ceasing eating, he still wasn't as light as he needed to be. How else was he going to lose the weight?

After a while, though, he had to stop. His stomach was flipping, letting him know that if he didn't slow down, he'd throw up, even if there was nothing but stomach acid to expel.

Sweat beading on his brow and a side stitch stabbing his side, he walked back to the hotel. Like all his other friends, he was staying in Berlin for the week. It was a reunion of sorts, he supposed. They didn't get together in large groups for fun very often, the rare times they were all together tended to be because of some sort of tragedy.

Alfred got into the elevator, sighing and shutting his eyes as the doors slid closed.

"Hold up!"

Alfred opened his eyes to see an energetic Italian with a large bag holding the doors back and jumping in. "Feliciano?

"Hey, Alfred!"

"What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Ludwig at his house?" Alfred asked, a suggestive note in his voice.

If Feliciano noticed, he didn't let on. "I am, but I came to bring Matthew some syrup!"

"Syrup?"

"Yep! He called in tears saying that the syrup here tasted as bad as Arthur's cooking. Of course, I understood how dire of a situation it must be to compare it to Arthur's cooking, so I found a bunch of different kinds of maple syrup for him to choose from!" Feliciano opened the bag he had been holding to show Alfred the contents.

"That's a lot."

"Really? I was worried it wouldn't be enough. I like to use tons on my food and I think Matthew does, too. Syrup is so good. It's like eating happiness. Especially on pancakes. Oh, warm, fluffy pancakes..."

Alfred's stomach grumbled and he pushed the thought of buttery pancakes from his mind. "You may be right. Do you want me to take them to him? His room is next to mine, anyway, and I know you're always desperate to go back to Ludwig."

"You'd do that?"

"Yeah, of course. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Thanks, Alfred, you're the best!" Feliciano chimed, handing the bag off to Alfred.

It was a lot heavier than he anticipated, but he slung it over his frail shoulder. "No problem, dude."

Feliciano pressed the elevator button to the floor just above them, causing the elevator to halt its ascent and let him out. "Ciao!"

"Bye!"

The doors shut and the machine lurched upward, carrying him to his floor. Finally, they slid open on level 48 and he stepped out into the hallway, trudging down to Matthew's room.

He knocked swiftly on the wooden door and waited. Immediately, he heard footsteps and the sliding of the lock.

Matthew opened the door with a grave look on his face. "Hello, Alfred."

"You really should check the peephole before opening the door. I could have been a murder. Or worse, Francis."

"I heard that!" Called the Frenchman's voice from somewhere back in the room.

"Francis is here?"

"Arthur, too."

"Oh, cool. Well, I have your maple syrup," He said, holding the bag up.

Instantly, Matthew's face lit up as he swiped it from Alfred and ran inside with it, calling over his shoulder, "You can come in, you know."

Alfred shut the door behind him and entered the room. It was cozy and a bit messy with a hockey bag in the corner and his suitcase lying crooked at the foot of the bed. On the end of the bed was Arthur, looking bored. Beside the table, Francis was getting to his feet. There was bread, powdered sugar, and a bowl of fruit resting on it.

"Which one, Matthew?" Francis asked.

He sorted through the various bottles and brands until proudly producing a bottle of Canadian Finest syrup. "And it's even organic!"

Francis took it from him, turning back to the food on the table. "Merci, mon amie."

"What are you guys doing?" Alfred asked.

"Making french toast. Or, rather, Francis is making french toast and Matthew is pitching a fit over the syrup we use," Arthur answered.

Matthew looked deeply offended. "Syrup is important, Arthur, can you imagine eating processed syrup? Or worse, synthetic!" A shiver ran down his spine.

Alfred chuckled, sitting down on the end of the bed beside Arthur. "He's right you, know."

"Shut up," Arthur said with fake frustration.

"Aww, you know you love me."

"Yeah, I do," he responded, giving Alfred a quick kiss.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Get a room."

"Already did. It's that suite you wanted but you were too slow to book," Alfred teased. "It's lovely. Spacious. Clawfoot bathtub. Great for bath sex."

"Alfred! That's not even true!" Arthur squealed, slapping his arm gently.

Matthew crinkled his nose. "Guys, we're trying to make food here. Speaking of, is it done yet?"

Francis passed them each a plate. "Yep."

Alfred handed his back, shaking his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Did you already have breakfast?" Arthur asked with a puzzled expression. "I didn't hear you get up."

"I got some food when I went on my run," he lied. "But thanks, Francis, it really does smell good."

He shrugged, taking the plate back. "More for me."

The others ate while Alfred kept his eyes off the food. Smelling it was so tempting, but he couldn't. Besides, if he did eat it, then he'd just have to go throw it up, which was a lot of work he didn't feel like going through.

"So, Francis, how's Roderich?" Arthur asked with a knowing smirk.

"I wouldn't know. We haven't talked much since the reunion."

"Mhmm."

"It's true!"

"Okay, okay. Then Matthew, how's Gilbert?"

Matthew turned crimson. "H- He's good! He's great! I'm great, we're great. I... good."

Alfred smiled. "Aww, Mattie."

"What?"

"You're head over heels for him, aren't you?" Alfred asked with a raised brow and a grin.

"Whatever. You and Arthur are sickeningly in love, too."

Alfred smiled over at Arthur. "Yep."

Arthur flushed as well. "Can it, git."

"Whatever you say, babe."

Arthur's face turned a shade redder.

"Well, anyway, I should get going," Francis announced, setting his empty plates down. "Places to go, people to see."

"Like Roderich?"

"No!"

Alfred chuckled. "Bye, Francis."

He waved as he strode out the door, the scent of roses and sugar trailing after him.

"We should go, too," Arthur said to Matthew. "Thanks for the toast."

"No problem. Francis did all the work, anyway."

"Enjoy your syrup," Alfred said with a laugh and a small wave before taking Arthur's hand and leaving the room. Their suite was just next door, so Arthur unlocked it with the key card and let Alfred go inside first.

Once the door fell shut, Arthur pulled Alfred into a kiss, tugging him down to his height. "Are you okay, love?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Alfred responded nervously.

Arthur's hands slid down to take Alfred's in his own. "You seem... paler. Sadder. Quieter. Are you getting sick?"

"Yeah right, I never get sick."

"Well, you have been recently. I don't know why your immune system is so ineffective lately, but you could be coming down with something. Perhaps you should lay down."

Alfred nodded, slumping into their bed. Arthur lay down beside him, watching as he closed his eyes and slowly drifted into a nap. In recent months, they hadn't been intimate at all. Alfred wouldn't even cuddle. It was scaring him, but he wasn't sure what to do. He had no idea what had made Alfred pull away from him, but the knowledge that he could lose him kept him up at night.

Troubled, Arthur brushed a lock of hair out of Alfred's peaceful face. A few strands of hair came out when he did so and Arthur furrowed his brow, repeating the action. More hair.

Arthur sat up, looking down in worry as he slid his hand all the way across Alfred's head and came out with a clump of blond strands.

Alarmed, he tossed it into the trash and went back to Alfred's side, examining his face. It wasn't his imagination, Alfred was much paler than normal. He put a hand on Alfred's shoulder, intending to shake him awake, but was startled when he felt each knob of his bone.

He drew his hand back in surprise, eyes widening. Ever so slowly, he pushed Alfred's bulky jacket away from his chest. Alfred was fond of wearing lots of layers, but once Arthur pushed some aside and gently touched him, he realized just how thin he was.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he moved back, not sure what to do. Should he wake Alfred? Should he wait? Was he sick? Was he okay?

The fear ate at him until he leaned down, tapping his boyfriend and kissing him quickly to wake him up.

Alfred sat up with a groan. As his body shifted, the jacket fell back into place. It disturbed Arthur to see just how... normal he looked once it covered him. Whatever was wrong, Alfred was hiding it, and he had been hiding it well.

"Hey, Iggy," he mumbled tiredly, a lazy smile on his face.

Arthur wasn't sure what to say next, so he just blurted, "Why are you so thin?"

Alfred snapped awake, all the haze of sleep gone. "What?"

"Why are you so thin?"

"How did you-"

Arthur pointed to a clump of hair on Alfred's pillow from where there had been friction on his scalp. "You're losing chunks of hair, Alfred!"

"It's fine, I'm fine." Alfred's heart beat rapidly. How would he get out of this?

"No, you're not," Arthur argued, eyes tearing up and beginning to spill. "You're skin and bones, Alfie. I... God, what happened? Why?"

Alfred quickly realized there was no getting out of this. "I just haven't been eating as much lately."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean... I'm just trying to lose weight. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? You're crazy under a healthy weight! This... this is a huge deal!"

Alfred didn't know what to say.

"Why? Is this anorexia?"

That word made Alfred squirm. He knew that was what was happening, but admitting it, even to himself, was nearly impossible. His lack of response was enough for Arthur to understand.

"Oh my god," Arthur said through a choked sob. "Alfred... You have to stop!"

"I can't," Alfred admitted, also starting to cry. "I just can't."

"Why not?"

"I'll get fat! I'm already so ugly, Arthur, I can't let it get worse."

"This is why you've been pushing me away, isn't it?" Arthur asked. It should have come as a relief that he didn't do anything to upset Alfred, but the truth just made him feel worse.

Alfred was confused. "Pushing you away?"

"You barely ever even touch me. I thought... It doesn't matter. You need help. I'll... I'll find you a therapist or something, I don't know, but we have to do something."

"No! No, don't!"

"You don't understand what this is doing to you!"

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't! You're killing yourself, Alfred!"

"Well, maybe I don't care!"

The horror in Arthur's eyes deepened. "Y- You... Oh, god..." Arthur dissolved into tears, hands in his hair and slumping down against the wall to a seated position on the floor.

Alfred gulped, getting off the bed and going to sit beside Arthur. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Arthur's head shot up. "What's wrong? Are you kidding me?"

"Uh..." Alfred paused, unsure.

"What's wrong is that the love of my life is starving to death! What's wrong is that he's so deep in his depression that he doesn't even care! What's wrong is that you don't even understand why I'm so upset! I love you! I love you infinitely, Alfred, and I'm terrified of losing you. I can't lose you and yet I'm so close..." He couldn't say any more, so he just pressed a hand to his forehead as he cried.

Tentatively, Alfred wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, you don't have to be sorry for anything. We're going to fix this, okay?" Arthur told him, sniffing and biting back his tears to reassure him, "You're going to get help, I'm going to take care of you, and you're going to be okay. Do you hear me?"

"Y- Yeah, I hear you."

"Say it. You're going to be okay."

He didn't believe it much, but he repeated, "I'm going to be okay."

"I swear to you, it'll be fine, just fine."

Alfred's breath shook. "I love you."

"I love you, too. More than you'll ever know. And it'll be alright. Everything is going to be alright, just you wait and see."


End file.
